The Past
by Kanra.Iza-Kun
Summary: N would sit there, on the floor with his hand on his cheek. "B-But papa.." He remembered saying. "I...I just want friends..." - ONE SHOT -


Like every person, there was a time in which N Harmonia was a young child. If he asked for it, N would get whatever he would want. He would ask for toy trains, he would ask for many different tracks. Those were his favorite types of toys. Trains. It was something that he really loved. He would always love to see the train go around, and around upon the tracks that it was supposed to take. It was just so interesting and amazing to the boy. He would ask for toy blocks, and when he would get them he would create a toy castle with it. He would ask for plush toys of Pokemon, and place them at the top of his castle and exclaim that they were the kings, or the queens of it. He would ask for many simple things- but as time went by, he would ask for more than toys. He once asked for a basketball court, and a basketball. And within a few days, he had a basketball court in his room, as well as a basketball. Ever since that day, N had gained a huge love for the sport of basketball, and would play by himself. He remembered asking for a ramp, and he remembered asking for a skateboard. Though he wasn't the best at using it, he still had much fun with it. There were so many things that N would ask for, and so many things that N would recieve.

When he got older, he was able to have his own pokemon. His eyes grew with joy, as he was handed a minccino that was already trained. He would play with it- and they had become closer than he had thought.

Stories would be read to N every night by Anthea or Concordia, but after a few monthes of it, N would grow bored of it. So he asked for books of his own, so he could read them himself. Though he was just a child, he picked up on reading rather quickly for his age. As he would read, he found out so much about words he had never seen before. He was fascinated by every little thing- but there was one story that caught his attention.

A story about a mother Zoroark, and the young Zorua who followed her around and looked up to her. He was confused- what was a mother? He had never had one in his life. So, out of curiousity, the boy would approach his father and tug on the fabric of his clothing. He would recieve a glare in return, along with a voice that would intimidate him.

"What do you want?" He would hear.

"Papa, do I have a mommy?" He would ask in reply. And he wouldn't receive an answer. When he didn't recieve an answer, the boy would ask the same question. Only to be answered, with something he would hear everyday.

"Go back to your room."

N would be sad, but nevertheless, he would go run back up to his room and go back to reading that story about the Zoroark and Zorua. Over, and over. It was probably one of his favorite books. And N honestly couldn't wait for the month to end, as that meant he would get a new book. But there was one month, where he recieved a book and found yet another term that would confuse him.

He read the book, over and over, reading about how a trainer befriended another trainer. Most of the stories he had read revolved around a single type of pokemon, or just simple fairytales. But other trainers? He had never read about that, before. And N didn't understand what the word _friend_ meant.

N rarely asked for his father for things that he wanted, as his father was beginning to change. To the point he was afraid to come up to him. Everytime he would ask for love, or attention, N would get hit in reply. In fact, whenever the boy did something to displease Ghetsis, he would get hit. Whenever he cried, he would get hit. He didn't understand it- but what he was going through was abuse. But he did know one thing. He wanted his older father back- he wanted the father who would listen to him, he wanted the father who wouldn't neglect him and hurt him. Even if Ghetsis never really was good with words from the beginning, N could tell that he loved him. But, now... he wasn't even sure. But he took a chance. He ran up to his father one day, tugging at his clothing again.

"Papa?" He would ask.

"What do you want now?"

His father's tone would scare him. But nevertheless, the young boy would say something. "I want a friend!"

Ghetsis would be at a loss of words. And out of reflex when he was angered or annoyed by his son, Ghetsis used the back of his hand and slapped his son away. He would ignore his son letting out a yell of pain, and he would walk away while saying one thing. "I can't get that for you." Ghetsis would say.

N would sit there, on the floor with his hand on his cheek. "B-But papa.." He remembered saying. "I...I just want friends..."

Anthea and Concordia, living in his castle at that time would run to his side and calm him down before he could start crying, and whisper words that would help him feel better. They looked at eachother, knowing what N had wanted. Though they were there for him, they couldn't serve as a friend for him. He already saw them as elder sisters- maybe even as his mother ( _Or, mothers. He had no idea that you only had one mother._ ). N would love to play with those two, but right now was a time in which he just wanted the old times to return.

As time passed, and when N was about at the age of eight, he would begin to cry more. Ghetsis began to get more demanding around the castle, and push N to the side and not listen to him when he needed the comfort. When N wanted to play, Ghetsis would hit him. When N wanted attention, Ghetsis would push him to the side and say that he could go to the two women. When N was scared, Ghetsis would tell him- _"A king never gets scared," _and push him to the side. When N was crying, Ghetsis would laugh and hit him to get him to stop. And when he didn't stop, the abuse would just get worse. N would spend his time in his room, playing with the pokemon he would get. The Minccino, the Darumaka, the Purrloin, and the Zorua. He would get paper and some crayons, as well as a toy crown to represent that he was a king. When he was bored, he would begin to draw on the paper. He would draw three people, all with green hair on one paper and write at the top - 'Family', in rather messy lettering. On some other paper, he would draw himself, holding hands with someone else. He would smile when he drew things like this, as this is how he had hoped for at this age. A family, a mother...and a friend. N would remember all his failed attempts to talk with his father.

"...Papa?" He remembered calling out for him, standing at his doorway with a look of hope in his eyes.

"What?" He would hear.

"Do you love me?" He remembered asking.

He remembered how his father would look at him with a look of disgust, as if he were to say - _'No, I don't.'. _He remembered, that when his father came up to him, he would step back and fear that he would hit him across the face. When he saw his father's hand go up, he would close his eyes tightly and hold the menger sponge around the chain on his neck rather tightly and tremble. But when he felt his father just gently pat his head, he would open his eyes and stare up hopelessly. "...I can't answer that." Ghetsis would say. N would frown, and look at the floor. Standing there for a long while, with his father standing in front of him. He would then turn his back to him and run back to his room as quickly as possible, locking himself in his room and crying. He would eventually get the fact- _that his father doesn't love him anymore._

He remembered this other time, where he would ask again about what happened to his mother. The same thing would repeat, he would call out for his father, and his father would always reply coldly.

"...What happened to mommy?" He would ask.

"_For the love of God, N!" _His father would yell. He remembered how he started to go back, backing up into a wall. He remembered how his father picked him up by the collar of his shirt, yelling out harsh and cold words towards him. "Can you stop bringing her up!" He would exclaim. N would cry, and struggle to get away. When Ghetsis threw N to the floor, he would walk away and leave him in the room to cry, alone.

Ever since that day, N wouldn't dare ask what happened to his mother. He would dream about a girl with curly, emerald green hair, the same shade as his, and blue eyes. He would dream that he was with his family, playing, and having fun with them like every other family. He would dream that he's alone crying, but then he sees a figure in front of him place a hand on his cheek and whisper calm and soothing words to him. Just as kind as Anthea and Concordia's words. And almost instantly, he would smile and try to hug her. But then he would wake up, and he would cry. Everything he had seen - was just a dream, and it was never going to come true.

As N got older, he would be allowed to go out on his own and train his pokemon. But also attempt at getting people to liberate their pokemon, and would more than likely accomplish at it.

He would attempt to make friends, but every time he's tried, he just couldn't. It was just too hard for him. N would attempt, and attempt after every other try. But everytime...people would think he's weird. Not even White, or Black, the two people that he could trust with his life even liked him. N eventually would give up on making friends, and go back to his original job at getting people to release their pokemon. Succeed, or not succeed at it.

Now that N is eighteen, he found himself thinking about his past. He never did find out about his mother, and in all his attempts, he was only able to befriend White, and Black. He hadn't gotten any closer to his father, more or less, they were enemies. But still, though Ghetsis despised- no, hated N, N still loved him.

One day, N had found himself repeating himself, from a long time ago upon sitting with his father in his castle.

"...Papa?" He called out to him.

Ghetsis gave him that same old, disgusted look. "What the hell do you want, N?" He asked.

"...What happened to mom?" He asked again.

Ghetsis stared at N for a long while. At a loss of words- it had been so long since he had heard his son ask that simple question. Ghetsis looked off to the side, as if he was going to tell him for the first time. "...I thought I told you to never ask me that question." Ghetsis said, as he pulled back his hand and attempted to slap N across the face. Most of the time, he would succeed. But this was one of those times, in which N was able to grab his wrist and hold him back.

"_Please!" _N yelled out. Tears filling his eyes, but he refused to let them fall. "You never told me! What happened to mom? Is she dead, is she alive? What happened to her? Please...! Just tell me this one time!"

Ghetsis had never seen his son hold back on his hit before. This wasn't the first he had seen N cry, but this was the first he's seen his son yell back at him. Ghetsis held his hand back, and he quickly grabbed a hold of N's wrist and tightly held onto it. "Your mother died shortly after giving birth to you. She had a heart condition, and luckily, you didn't get that heart problem." Ghetsis told him.

N was at a loss of words. But, he nodded and he pulled back his wrist after slipping it out of his fathers tight grip. N gently rubbed his wrist, looking up at the ceiling. "...Papa?" He asked.

"...What...?"

"...Do you still love me?" N glanced at his father, a look of hope in his eyes.

Ghetsis didn't say anything. He stood up, and turned his back to his son. "To tell you the truth... I don't." He said.

It felt as if N's heart was struck by a bullet. His eyes widened, and he looked down at the ground. He was expecting that answer from him, anyways. "But," He heard. He stayed looking at the floor, biting his bottom lip softly. His throat was beginning to hurt, he was choked up from the fact that his father just admitted that he doesn't love him, anymore.

"...You're my son, still." Ghetsis said in a soft voice.

Without a word, N nodded. "...I...I know." He said.

While Ghetsis walked off, N was lost in his thoughts. The tears in his eyes began to stream down his face, thinking about how it would've been like if his mother was still alive. Maybe she would've stayed on his side, but be on his father's side as well. He brought his knees to his chest, hiding his face in his knees as he began to cry into them.


End file.
